Page 32 of Glitterati Omega

Winston was unbuttoning his shirt, his cufflinks. “Just do what feels natural,” he advised, and Rupert wanted to tell him nothing felt particularlynatural, but he slipped his hand between his legs and ran his fingers over his folds anyway, trying to fumble out something that felt good or mimic what the alpha had done before.

Thank heavens, he supposed, that he was keyed up; everything felt good, even if he was hesitant in his touches.

He felt much surer when he touched his cock, pleasure jolting through him unexpectedly. He lifted his gaze to look at Winston again, found the alpha shirtless and rapidly divesting himself of his slacks, and—

Rupert jammed his fingers against himself a bit too hard, and he twisted away from his own touch, screwing his eyes shut.

“Have you managed to give some thought to what you’d like?”

“I think I fancy a shag,” Rupert choked out, and Winston’s laughter cascaded through his ears, down his spine, and suddenly, nothing mattered except getting off as quickly as he could.

Winston was over him again, all heat and gorgeous melanin against him. He met the alpha’s gaze as Winston took his wrist and pulled his hand away. Rupert let his eyes flutter shut when two fingers slid inside him, stretching him wide.

Then the alpha pulled away again, and for a split second, Rupert was pretty sure he’d changed his mind. His eyes flew open and he looked frantically at Winston, who had seated himself on one of the chairs. He smiled again, then crooked his finger, and Rupert sat all the way up, brows knitting together.

“I thought we were going to fuck.” That was an awful lot of prelude to tell him he wasn’t fuckable.

“Mm,” Winston agreed. “I’d like you to come here.”

Hesitantly, Rupert swung himself off the table. He hovered over Winston for a second, unsure. The alpha slid a hand down his side, let it rest on his hip. “Have a seat.”

It was half instruction, half invitation, and Rupert let that hand overcome his resistance, guide him down. “Is this all right?” he asked, sneaking a glance at the alpha’s face, expecting to see … disappointment, upset, something, even as Winston guided him to wrap his hand around the alpha’s cock.

“Everything is all right,” the alpha said in that calm, reassuring tone of his, and Rupert wished he could get his heart, his head to listen. Everything was fine. He wasn’t fucking this up forever and ever.

He glanced down, bit his lip. Winston’s hand was off his hip now, sliding between his legs, holding him open as they slowly guided the latex-sheathed head of the alpha’s (magnificent) cock into him.

“Take it as slow as you like,” Winston advised, finally releasing his hand, apparently trusting him to get it the rest of the way in.

“I thought you wanted me to sit down,” Rupert grumbled back, mostly to distract himself from the stretch. Fuck, he hadn’t taken anything for a while and the alpha was … well, big felt too facile a descriptor. Too gauche, generic, something.

A hand brushed a couple of unruly locks behind his ear. “Mm, no. I want you to enjoy this. I think this position is better.”

“How?” Honestly, Rupert had never beenon topof an alpha before. It was strange, and he felt almost vulnerable. Exposed. He would have preferred being pinned down, he thought.

“It gives you control,” Winston said breezily, and even though he didn’t seem to mind, Rupert still felt ridiculous that the alpha had to teach him anything. “It’s been a while, yes?”

Rupert huffed in response. Winston stroked his hair again. “So,” he continued, “this position puts you in charge, love. Speed, depth—all up to you.”

“Seems to me that you’re just making me do the work.” He shifted himself side to side, sneaked a sly glance at the alpha’s suddenly severe expression.

Winston shook himself. “Trust me, love—I’ll put you on your back and fuck you if that’s what you want. But let’s open you up first, hm?”

Rupert grunted in reply; he was now practically flush against the alpha.

“How do you feel?” Winston asked, then leaned in, pressing their foreheads together.

Rupert draped his arms over the alpha’s shoulders. “Um,” he said, rolling his hips experimentally. “Good, actually.”

It might have even been beyond good, but Winston’s fingers against him were making it difficult to think about anything but that wicked touch. Being stretched wide over the alpha’s cock didn’t hurt either; in fact, the sensation was settling into something pleasant, not nearly as intense as Winston’s fingers flicking at him elsewhere, but building into it.

“Good,” Winston said, almost like an echo, “that’s what I wanted to hear.”

Rupert glanced at him, then away hastily. “Are you sure you don’t want to hear your name on my lips?”

A soft snort. “If you’re willing to oblige,” the alpha said. Then his humor evaporated as he thrust up to meet Rupert’s slight downward motion. “That can wait, though. Make you scream it later.”

“Oh,” Rupert said, and he wasn’t sure if that was a reaction to the idea that the alpha might make him scream or the pleasure sawing up his spine as they started to rock together, a little faster now. “Careful—I might make you keep that promise.”